


Royal Blunder

by maej26



Category: Monday Night RAW - Fandom, Professional Wrestling, Sports Entertainment, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment, wrestling - Fandom
Genre: Friendship, M/M, platonic, yet still so much chemistry!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maej26/pseuds/maej26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike comforts Alex after finding out he’s been pulled from the Royal Rumble match (2015).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Blunder

**Author's Note:**

> (This fic has been backdated to when I originally wrote it)

Mike walks through the curtain, finished with his third and final appearance of the night. He’s worn out and a bit disgruntled over the way he’s been treated. Being used as the set-up for a joke is starting to wear on him and entering the Royal Rumble at number one is something he never thought would happen again, yet it has. At this point, he wonders if headlining Wrestlemania is something he’ll ever be able to do again. Whether he will or not remains to be seen, but he likes to believe that as long as he’s still in the game, it’s still possible. It’s that spark of hope that keeps him hanging on and moving forward.

Before heading to the locker room, he grabs a fresh towel out of a bin so he can wipe the sweat off his face. During this time, he passes by the line of remaining superstars waiting for their number to be called. He doesn’t look to them or acknowledge them in any way because he knows what it’s like to be waiting for a match. It’s nerve-wracking and very much a personal experience that shouldn’t be interfered with. But then he remembers that it’s Alex’s first night back - his first televised match in almost two years. It’s arguably the biggest night of his friend’s career and he never had a chance to wish him luck, so he turns around expecting the guy to be standing in the line. But he’s not there. Mike’s smile fades and the towel slips from his hand. His mind races trying to come up with an explanation for the guy’s absence. Did he already go out there? Did his music already hit and he didn’t hear it? No, it couldn’t have. He definitely would have heard it. In disbelief, he looks down the line again, assigning each person a number and then realizes if Alex had been standing in that line there’d be one too many men. His heart sinks. Suddenly his own problems pale in comparison.

On his way to the locker room he rounds a corner and spots Alex sitting alone - deflated, defeated - staring blankly at the cold concrete floor. He’s still wearing his ring gear…plus a shirt and a pair of shorts. It’s glaringly obvious he’s been pulled from the card.

Feeling the weight of a heavy gaze upon him forces Alex to lift his head, and sure enough, he finds Mike standing there, focused only on him. While he’s relieved it’s not someone who hates him, someone ready to mock his failure and misfortune, he can’t help but still feel humiliated. The way Mike is looking at him, with what he perceives to be pity, is too much for him to handle, so he gets up and walks in the opposite direction.

“Alex, wait up.”

The dejected man doesn’t respond, just shakes his head, hoping Mike will get the message. But Mike ignores the silent request and rushes after him. When he’s within arms reach, he places a hand on his shoulder and Alex spins around, greeting him a growl and a balled up fist.

Mike flinches. “Hey, bud, take it easy.”

It takes Alex a few beats before he snaps out of his fury. Now he has a whole new reason to be disappointed; he’d never want to hurt his best friend. He stumbles backwards until he’s against the wall and brings his hand up to his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose, pressing his fingers to the corners of his eyes and sniffs loudly. After a few deep breaths, he collects the courage to look at Mike, but when he does, he discovers he isn’t as ready as he thought. He blinks rapidly, trying to force back disobedient tears and then looks to the ceiling, like he’s searching for answers. “I thought this was it,” he confides with a shaky voice.

Mike looks to Alex, a pained expression on his face. Just as he’s about to speak, he hears voices approaching and knows he can’t let anyone see his friend in the shape he’s in. “Come here,” he says, taking Alex by the hand and pulling him aside.

Alex lets his eyes adjust to the shadows and then looks to his friend. “Mike…”

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Mike says, lightly squeezing Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t deserve this.”

“I just don’t get it. I do everything they ask of me. _For_ _two fucking years!”_

“I know.”

“Why can’t they see it?”

Mike shakes his head, feeling just as perplexed and disillusioned as Alex is. “I don’t have an answer for that because I’ve _always_ seen it. Since the moment I saw you. You just have to hang in there in bit longer.”

“But time’s running out,” Alex says sadly.

Suddenly a sense of urgency arises within Mike and he grabs both of Alex’s shoulders, commanding his full attention. “Look. They called you back here, didn’t they? That’s huge. That’s _something_. They must see it. It just wasn’t the right time tonight, that’s all. Okay?” He emphasizes this reassurance with a hug. “Everything that’s supposed to happen will happen.”

Alex allows a moment for the words to seep in and when they do, he thanks Mike and squeezes him a bit tighter. Words can’t express how much he appreciates the support, especially after all these years and the fact that they rarely get to see each other anymore. “You’re the only one who gives a shit.”

Mike chuckles. “That’s not true.”

A large part of Alex disagrees, but he doesn’t have the desire to argue against his own self-worth. Instead, he simply closes his eyes and melts into Mike’s embrace. The hug reminds him of a time filled with nothing but hope and possibility for the future. A time when everything was right, when he knew he was where he belonged. “I miss you,” he whispers.

After a long pause, Mike pulls back and brushes the hair from Alex’s forehead. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here. We’ll hang out like we used to. How’s that sound?”

With that, Alex does something he didn’t think would be possible after the tumultuous night he’s had: He smiles.


End file.
